Page 57 of Secured By the Buyer

A dark hood comes down over my head, and then I’m roughly dragged backward, kicking and yelling as the retrieval team hauls me away.

Blinded, my heart hammers, each ragged breath echoing in my ears. The musty fabric is suffocating, but I force myself not to struggle too much against the tight grip on my biceps.

This is all going according to plan. Caleb and Jade are watching, ready to tail us to wherever these goons take me.

If we’re lucky, it will be straight to Bugrov.

I stumble as they march me out the front door, the sudden burst of cool night air making me gasp. Gravel crunches under heavy boots as multiple sets of footsteps hurry me along.

“Get him in the van,” a gruff voice barks. “Make it quick.”

Zip ties bite into my wrists as they bind my handsbehind me, then a shove against my back sends me sprawling. I grunt in pain as my shoulder slams into cold, rigid metal. The door slams shut with a bang, sealing me in darkness with my captors.

The engine rumbles to life, and we lurch into motion. I strain to trace our path in my mind as we take turn after turn, trying to paint a mental map, but it’s no use. Too many lefts and rights to remember while my adrenaline is pumping and my thoughts circle with all the ways this could go wrong.

Caleb will know what to do, how to track me down, I tell myself, not quite able to quell the tremor running through me. He has to. I’m counting on him and Jade. Because I’m not sure I can face Bugrov on my own if this all goes sideways.

I’ve lost all sense of direction and how much time has passed when we come to a stop, and the engine cuts off.

With a metallic groan, the door opens, and cold air washes over me. Then the rough hands return, seizing my arms and hauling me out.

I stumble, my feet scrambling for purchase on concrete stairs leading down, down, down. The man who grips my arm half-carries me, my toes skimming the ground.

A heavy door creaks open, then slams shut behindus, the echo reverberating in the space. They drag me forward a few more steps before shoving me onto a surface that yields beneath me. A mattress, my mind supplies.

Pulse hammering, I struggle to sit up, the hood still obscuring my vision. “Where am I? Who are you people?”

Silence. Then a dark chuckle. “Hear that? I like an Omega with a little fight left in him.”

“Don’t matter,” a second voice grunts. “He belongs to someone.”

“So what? That just means he’s already been used,” the first man counters. “Who’s gonna know the difference?”

Ice shoots through my veins, and I scoot backward, putting as much distance between myself and the voices as possible.

“My owner is possessive.” Fear tightens my throat. “He’ll check to make sure I wasn’t touched.”

A bark of laughter follows. “Should’ve considered that before you ran away, little Omega.”

Fingers close around my ankle like a vice, dragging me back toward the edge of the mattress. I lash out with my other foot, connecting with a meaty thump.

The man swears, his grip loosening, and he snarls at his partner. “Hold him still, will you?”

Panic claws at me as hands clamp down on my legs, pinning me in place.

This is not part of the plan. This is real.

They paw at my waistband, yanking and tugging. I thrash against their restraint, but it’s no use. I’m trapped, helpless. The sound of fabric tearing fills the air, and a wave of cold washes over my exposed skin.

As I brace myself for the worst, a new voice cuts through the chaos. “What the hell are you doing to the product?”

The men release me.

“Back to your positions,” the same man commands as the hood whips from my head.

I blink at the sudden brightness, struggling to focus. A figure looms above me, and as my vision clears, I recognize Bugrov’s face.

He gives me a predatory leer. “I remember you.”

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